


Need

by Vegetacide



Category: Thunderbirds, thunderbirds are go
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, NSFW Art, fast and dirty, getting it on, sex on a plane, tee he he
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vegetacide/pseuds/Vegetacide
Summary: Private time in a cockpit.... ( Accompanied by artwork.. ) TaG: Bloodlines
Relationships: Tanusha "Kayo" Kyrano/Virgil Tracy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Veg-notables: So this happened... 
> 
> Characters: Virgil Tracy, Kayo Kyrano , V/K
> 
> Collection: TaG: Bloodlines 
> 
> Rating: Mature
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> 8-8-8

Virgil's baldric hit the deck with a thump, a wrench skittering across the diamond plating as it slipped free with a clang of metal on metal that was anything but quiet. 

Frustrated, urgent fingers pulled and yanked open fastenings. Grazed over zippers and snagged on clasps in a hurried, frantic frenzy to find flesh. 

A curse was let loose, harsh with annoyance as fabric caught and ripped. 

Bodies previously aggravated and buzzing with anger now alight with need. Physical connection of the most primal nature a new goal after piqued hurtful words and bruised emotions. The tension of a shit day culminating in a hurried, desperate joining.

In the restricted confines of Two’s cockpit, they found purchase. Smooth skin, goose-pimpling with the sudden cool contact of unforgiving hardware. Sharp edging pressing into muscle and sinew as rough, work worn hands slide over ripe curves and heated breaths panted over pebbled tawny peaks .

Thighs bare, her knees spread wide and the heated silk of her swollen, secret folds exposed to him and him alone. Open and enticingly inviting, dew kissed with yearning and begging to be consumed. 

She was laid out, partially disrobed of her protective clothing, the woman before him painted a picture of wanton sexuality that had the first responder groaning. His blood pulsed and thickened muscle and tissue kicked within the trapping his gear.

Flight suit half way off, he gave up the pretense of his wavering control. Yanking what little he wore underneath the heavy fabric out of the way and pulled himself free. The chilled, circulated O2 of the cabin, ghosting across his weeping tip, shocking in contrast and causing him to suck in a breath. 

A fragment of reasoning otherwise buried under heightened desire returned to his higher brain function just long enough to shout at him to hit the blasted hatch lock. Protocol be damned. 

Mission one accomplished to hinder any unwanted interruption, the surroundings were forgotten as instinct fully took the reins and with no more fanfare or distraction, he swiveled his hips and plunged in…

o0o


End file.
